


Once Upon a Ger

by nightfalltwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Hermione Granger, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24601003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: Draco finds himself and Hermione at a dragon reserve in Mongolia to serve out a three month practicum for their healer training.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27
Collections: School's Out For Summer





	Once Upon a Ger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emotionalsupporthufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalsupporthufflepuff/gifts).



> Written for the June 2020 Draco's Den "School's Out for Summer" fest. I didn't include much of the kinks beyond the basic prompt. The characters decided to be ornery in that regard and wanted me to write a much longer story if I was going to include them all. A _ger_ is known in other places as a yurt. Thanks for reading! I hope you like it. :D

_End of August_

Draco stooped in the middle of the low-ceilinged _ger_ , staring at his reflection in the mirror that hung from one of the support beams. He turned his face from side to side before trailing his fingers through the cold water in the basin that had been his sink for the last three months. He rubbed his hand along his jaw picturing what Theodore would have to say about the scruff that he'd allowed to grow. Three months ago he would have been most horrified at himself and quite possibly would have checked himself into the Janus Thickey ward for observation. After all, what self-respecting Slytherin would ever allow things to go this far? To become just _this_ scruffy?

But three months later, he supposed he was looking at himself differently.

"Are you almost finished, Draco?"

He turned at the sound of the door to the _ger_ being pulled and then glanced at the unpacked suitcase. He wasn't finished. He hadn't even started. Part of him had never wanted to be assigned as healer for this remote and very tiny dragon reserve in the middle of arse-wipe-nowhere Mongolia and now that very same part either didn't want to leave or just didn't want to return to England.

Beyond the door and beyond the small frame (and copious amounts of hair) that blocked it were the sounds of the newborn fireballs, fighting for position in their herd's hierarchy. The eggs had just hatched and already the animals were ferocious and angry. He couldn't say that he was completely over his fear of the enormous beasts; the hair still rose on his arms. But he found that it didn't raise as high and that the shortness of breath and heart palpitations were long gone.

"Our portkey is scheduled for just after sunset," Hermione stepped up behind him and looped her arms around his waist from behind. Three months ago such a gesture would have taken him completely by surprise and possibly abject horror. Now it did not. "Are you planning on leaving your things behind for the next healer?"

Drawing in a breath, the warmth from her body spreading up his back as she leaned against him, Draco closed his eyes for a moment before turning in her arms and resting his arms on her shoulders. "What if we didn't go back?"

Hermione looked up at him. "What?"

"Maybe I don't want to go back?" he said, wincing a little as he waited for her response.

***

_End of May_

"I'm being sent _where_?" Draco said, holding out his practicum assignment sheet with a shaking hand. "You've got to be joking."

Nigel shook his head and flipped through the papers on his damnable clipboard. Draco wanted to tear the bloody thing from his trainer's hand and beat him over the head. Being sent abroad for field training was a new thing St Mungo's had implemented and had he known that it would be a destination like Mongolia and not something closer to home like the new creature sanctuary north of the Isle of Skye or the reconstructed auror training camp at the base of Snowden. 

Hell, he would have even taken an assignment in Romania.

"No, you wouldn't have," Theodore said over drinks that night. "You hate Romania. You complained nonstop after that one holiday you took there with your parents."

"I was _seven_ , Theo. There was nothing to do and Mongolia is enormously different." Draco scowled at his drink and internally cursed Theodore's impeccable memory. He was always pulling little examples from their childhood to win arguments and it drove him mad.

Theodore shrugged. "It's only a three month practicum and I'm sure it won't be like when you were seven. You'll have a job to do, things to learn, et cetera and so on and so forth." He extended his finger to Draco, the others still curled around the tumblr in his hand. "A job, might I add, that is so completely out of character for you. Healer? I still haven't figured out why you chose that."

It was a question that was asked of him so often. Why are you doing this, Draco? You could be doing so many other things. Gringotts has a number of open positions that would suit you. Why not a nice cushy office job? What on earth made you choose healing? Draco didn't have much of an answer for any of them that seemed to satisfy. He didn't want to sit behind a desk. He wanted to use his potion skills but couldn't get into the St Mungo's research department without putting time in as a greencoat. 

Perhaps if he had known that an offsite practicum in Mongolia was to be his future, he would have thought differently.

Perhaps.

"Do you know who's been assigned to the same location as you?" Theodore asked, finishing his drink and summoning the bottle to refill it.

"Probably someone at the bottom of the class to punish me," Draco said woefully. "If it's Macmillan, I'll probably only last a week."

He was wrong.

***

_Beginning of June_

"This is it?" 

The portkey had landed them in the middle of a deserted steppe with only the shimmer of boundary wards on the horizon. Immediately in front of him was a horseshoe of low tents and the squat mongol fellow named Temujiin spoke in a thickly accented English to explain that they were Mongolian _ger_ and quickly rattling off all the instructions and traditions that went with them. Draco gripped his bag, trying to pay no attention to the sounds from beyond the white shelters.

Chinese Fireballs were not his favourite dragon. No dragon was actually his favourite dragon. He disliked the beasts and found them equally as terrifying as hippogriffs and even horses. But despite the roiling fear in his stomach, he was determined to keep his composure. Malfoys did not purposefully show their weaknesses to anyone.

And he certainly wasn't going to show them to the person standing next to him.

"Fascinating," Hermione said and Draco grimaced at her. She actually pulled a notebook out of satchel and began to take notes.

When he'd arrived at the Portkey office, he'd thought it to be a mistake. Maybe she'd missed her portkey and was waiting for them to make another. Surely St Mungo's wouldn't send their top two trainees to the same location, would they? Weren't the new practicums designed for trainees to learn to work as a team and teach each other and gain experience? What could he possibly learn from Granger? For that matter, she was ranked just as high as he was in the standings, so what could she possibly learn from him?

But it hadn't been a mistake. Granger was his partner for this location.

"Which one is mine," he said, resigned.

"The healers share a _ger_ ," Temujin pointed to the door that had just closed behind Granger as she took her things inside before leaving him to join the other handlers in the paddock beyond the half circle of shelters. 

Draco stood in the open air for a long moment contemplating his choices and wondering if he sent a resignation owl now if it would reach England quickly or die before it even got outside of Eurasia. The return portkey had a scheduled date and with the Chinese governing this encampment in partnership with the Mongolians, he couldn't just create a portkey of his own without violating about a hundred different regulations. One did _not_ mess with the Chinese.

Lovely, he thought. Just lovely.

Hefting his bag over his shoulder, Draco ducked into the dwelling. He'd expected to find it as spacious as a wizard tent but the inside was just as tiny as the outside. Without saying a word, he dropped down onto a low bed, surprised to find it more comfortable than it looked, and began to unpack his things. A small shelf sat to one side of the bed and a rusty-looking stove in the middle gave out a small amount of heat, warming the interior.

He stretched out, his heels hanging off the end of the bed and draped an arm over his eyes. Maybe if he slept often, the days would just fly by.

***

_Beginning of July_

The dragon handler lay face down on the cot inside the medical _ger_ , the burns across his back literally still smoking. Thankfully he was unconscious or the pain would be unbearable. He'd gotten between a dam and her clutch of eggs and was lucky to have only gotten the burns that he did. He could have been eaten. Draco focused on breathing through his mouth while Hermione busied herself at the potion cabinet. Burned flesh was a scent he didn't want to have permanently etched in his mind. 

"Do you want to apply the dittany while I sanitize the dressings?" she asked.

"No."

"Alright then, I'll do the dittany while you sanitize the dressings.." She moved toward the cot, but Draco stood in front of her, blocking her path.

"I mean no I don't want you to apply dittany. Period." He folded his arms. "That's always the first thing you resort to."

"Dittany is proven to be a completely effective means of healing scarred flesh," she replied, raising her chin. "I don't know why you keep trying to make me go against everything we've been trained to do. You, yourself, were treated with it at Hogwarts. It's the standard procedure!"

"It'll also leave him with scars that he will never be able to get rid of," Draco snapped, slapping her hand away. Thankfully all the bottled medicines were spelled with anti-shatter charms or they would have lost their whole supply when the bottle left her hand and hit the floor. 

"So what do you suggest I use, Mr Genius at Healing Potions?"

Draco pulled out his wand and summoned the case he'd packed into his bag and enlarged it once it flew into his hands. Inside were containers of herbs and plants all contained within anti-spoiling charms along with a cauldron that was magically bubbling away. The concoction was something he'd been working on, out of her sight, since arriving. The travelling potion's table was his pride and joy and while he wasn't exactly sure he enjoyed sharing it with her, the urge to show off his work was a lot stronger than his desire to keep it hidden.

"I suggest we try something new," he said, checking the mixture. "If it doesn't work, then we go back to using the old methods."

***

_Beginning of August_

"I can't believe you've invented three new potions while we've been here," Hermione said, a glass of _Chinggis Vodka_ in one hand and a stoppered potion in the other. She tilted the bottle and the cloudy purple mixture swirled about inside. She leaned back against the side of his bed, her legs stretched out across the floor toward the stove in the middle of the _ger_.

"It's what I wanted to do at Mungo's when we got back. The medical potions department has an opening that hasn't yet been filled," Draco swirled about his own glass of vodka but didn't drink. He wasn't a fan of the stuff, but was strangely comfortable with the relaxed conversation as of late.

"Charlie said that they need another healer at their camp in Romania," Hermione said, finishing her drink and leaning back, eyes closed. "I was thinking about applying to the Dai Llewellyn Ward, but I like being on site like this." She smiled. "Didn't think I'd ever enjoy camping again..."

He sat up. "Wait. You're thinking of not coming back?"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe?"

"But you can't," he said suddenly. Then he felt his cheeks flush. "I mean, these potions... half the work was done by you. I'm not comfortable taking the credit."

She cracked open an eye and looked at him. "That sounds blatantly untrue."

"Okay, so how about I don't _want_ to take all the credit." Draco crossed his arms. "I want to show that it was a joint effort and that I can work with others and that I can change and that I can work with you and..." He paused, partially out of breath and partially surprised that she had pushed herself up off the floor and now perched on the bed beside him. "Y-you did good work on this, Hermione," he stammered. 

She leaned closer and he leaned back, his head hitting the soft lining of the _ger_. "I always do good work," she said with a grin. "I'm very smart."

He should have said something witty. He should have had a clever retort as all good Slytherins should have, but she was so close to him and her hair was everywhere and he couldn't seem to form words. But it was a good thing he wasn't trying to talk because her suddenly kissing him was infinitely better than anything he could have said. And her mouth was soft. It was so soft.

Something snapped.

It snapped so hard that he was sure that the restless dragons could have heard it. Suddenly pulling her into his lap was the best idea. Better than potions. Better than good marks in class. She was warm and soft and she was letting him touch her, letting him run his fingers over her shoulders and then down to the hem of her jumper. She made a sound when his fingers touched her skin.

"Cold hands..." she whispered against his mouth.

But how could they be cold? He was burning up inside!

Before he could ask, she was kissing him again. Kissing him harder. Her fingers (also cold, imagine that!) began to delve beneath clothing and touch him in ways that made him shudder in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. It was surprising and it was new and while he wasn't entirely inexperienced when it came to the fairer sex, he was definitely inexperienced when it came to her.

And quite suddenly he wanted to do everything in his power to make her glad that this was happening.

Because without realizing it until that very moment, Draco was very glad that this was happening. They had sniped at each other the first month and come to an understanding during the second and this, this was so much better. How he had not realised how much better it could be, he didn't know. But whatever taught spring that had been winding up between them had suddenly broken and he was finding himself swamped by feelings and sensations that he'd not felt before.

This wasn't just sex, he realised about halfway through. Instinct and primal mechanics seemed to have taken over, but his brain suddenly screamed out the thought. He wasn't just having sex with her. He'd had sex before. It was alright. It got to the point. But this was different. He wasn't sure why.

His pulse began to race in a way that seemed blisteringly out of his control. Her moans thrilled him. The way her legs came around him thrilled him. The taste of her skin thrilled him. Everything about her just thrilled him and how he'd never realised just how much he actually had wanted her was mind boggling.

And when it was over, he didn't even think about the implications of what they'd done. Instead he held her close and let her curl against his body as their breathing slowed.

"The whole camp is going to talk about us," he said after a long moment, his fingers winding themselves through her hair.

"I'm sure they've been talking about us for weeks," Hermione said with a laugh, her breath warm against his neck. "But they'll just have to keep guessing because they wouldn't have heard."

"We weren't exactly quiet."

"I didn't spend months of my seventh year in the woods in a manky tent to not know a thing or two about silencing wards."

This time Draco initiated the kiss, all lips and tongue and teeth and rising pulses. When he drew back they were both panting. "I forgot. You did say you were very smart."

***

_End of August_

"So after all that, you'd stay here?" Hermione asked, glancing toward Draco's unpacked bag. "I thought you wanted to get back to St Mungo's and debut your new potions to the world."

Draco touched her cheek. "Maybe not stay _here_... but there are other places to go. Other potions to brew. Or invent."

She was quiet for a moment and he thought she might step back and tell him he was mad. Perhaps he was mad. Perhaps the idea of tearing off with no distinct plan was so completely out of character. Perhaps she had turned him into a Gryffindor (unlikely, but was he _sure_?) and now he was jumping without a clear idea of what was around the corner.

"Alright then," she said simply and clasped his hand. "Let's explore the world and go home later. England won't disappear if we're gone a little bit longer."


End file.
